


The Sword in the Stone

by xxjinchuurikixx



Series: Breathless [3]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Belated Christmas Presents, Blow Jobs, Bottom!Eggsy, Crying During Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, Domestic Fluff, Established Harry Hart | Galahad/Gary "Eggsy" Unwin, Established Relationship, Fluff, Freckles, Harry Hart Lives, I have a problem, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, My tags are all over the place, New Year's Eve, No Angst, Older Man/Younger Man, Pet Names, Praise Kink, Riding, Rimming, Smut, This is late, Ugh, Wow, christ all the pet names, eggsy is my reigning champ, happy new year, i suck, so much praise kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 21:42:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5642971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxjinchuurikixx/pseuds/xxjinchuurikixx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Remember—”<br/>“Be good,” Eggsy says, still dazed as he lowers his jaw and casts his gaze to the floor, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth and biting.<br/>Harry’s stomach drops hotly. “That’s my boy,” he says warmly, then turns and leaves.<br/>It’s only his job to try.<br/>He has to remember, Eggsy doesn’t expect this to work. This is a symbol of Harry’s affection and respect, at best. It may not succeed.<br/>But Harry tips his jaw up and walks himself and his resolve to the car waiting at the curb.<br/>A Kingsman never fails.</p><p>**<br/>In which Harry has forgotten Eggsy’s Christmas present… Eggsy supplies an idea.<br/>A continuation of Breathless: A Tale of Eggsy Unwin</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sword in the Stone

**Author's Note:**

> This could've been up New Year's Eve had I not been a little shit.  
> You all have my lovely [thirstforfirth](http://thirstforfirth.tumblr.com/) to thank. She's amazing. That is all.
> 
> Here you go once again, my pretty, patient darlings.
> 
> -XO, mo. Tumblr, aaaaaayyyy [xxjinchuurikixx](http://xxjinchuurikixx.tumblr.com/)

 

There’s a definite warmth in Eggsy’s chest, one he’s never felt before. It’s contentment, happiness, light as a feather inside him.

He’s standing in their kitchen— _their_ being his and Harry’s, which Eggsy will never get over—barefoot and shirtless, his drawstrings hanging low on his hips, stirring fry-up in a skillet, and he’s never been so fucking euphoric. The usual slouch in his shoulders has been dropped, a humming melody on his lips. There’s an ache in the tender muscle above his kidney from his last mission, but he can ignore it so easily, with how elated he is.

Though there is disbelief still pedalling through his veins.

He can’t believe he told his mother about Harry. He’s still having trouble accepting how the words came out of his mouth, how she knows, how she didn’t kick them out over it. They’re free.

It’s liberating. He can breathe deeper, lighter. He can look into the foreseeable future and find Harry there, without worry or struggle. It feels so much easier now. How could it feel this easy doing something so hard?

He heaves a heavy sigh, loving the way it pulls all his muscles, emphasizes the ache at the base of his spine. Had he not been so tired last night, he would have laid there, completely and totally Harry’s for the taking, for several hours. But they’d both had a long day, and after Harry had gotten his mouth over every inch of Eggsy’s skin, Eggsy had been a writhing, begging mess so quickly, so easily, with hardly any effort on Harry’s part. And, of course, once Harry did put in effort, it became a struggle to do anything _but_ writhe and beg.

One hour wrapped around Harry while their bodies came apart and back together over and over was more than enough to have Eggsy out like a light before Harry had returned from the bathroom to clean the spunk and sweat from his skin.

Eggsy’s grinning like the little shit he is, spearing a sausage and turning it over before he jiggles the skillet of mushrooms and tomatoes. He can feel the twinge of soreness beneath the curve of his arse where Harry’s hand had gripped his thigh for purchase, the tug at the juncture of his neck and shoulder where Harry’s teeth had nearly bruised him.

The sizzle of egg and JB’s snores under the windowpane are a perfect symphony, and the light coming through the window is the glaring white of sunlight on snow. It makes the dining room wallpaper shine like butter.

A kiss touches the nape of his neck, a broad chest pressing to his back firmly, and Eggsy’s eyes drop shut like lead curtains. “That smells amazing,” Harry nearly purrs against his shoulder, arms wrapping around Eggsy’s waist for a snug embrace.

Eggsy laughs, letting his head fall back onto Harry’s shoulder. “Was wondering when you’d show up.”

“You’re a terrible influence on me. Seems I can never wake up on time after you’ve worked your magic on me,” Harry teases, nipping along Eggsy’s exposed neck. “But look at you—an early riser only after being thoroughly debauched. I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

Eggsy would make a snide remark, but it’s terribly true that after having a good tumble with Harry, he wakes bright and early like a fucking song bird. So he just makes a noncommittal sound and picks up a spoon to stir the baked beans.

“I do recall I said if you ever wake before me to make tea,” Harry says, one hand palming up Eggsy’s chest, the other fitting his ribs like a cage. “But that really was rather more of a suggestion than an order, darling.”

“I would do anything for you, Harry. Order or not.”

Harry hums. “Stop being so lovely. You made yourself tea though, yes?”

Eggsy nods. “Already on the table. Just finishing up in here.”

“I never said you had to make me breakfast.”

“Oh I didn't. I was hungry. This is all for me,” Eggsy replies.

Harry blinks, laughing as he folds Eggsy tighter in his arms. “Ah, well. If it’s not too much trouble, perhaps a piece of toast?”

“I suppose can manage you just one,” Eggsy grins, turning his face to kiss Harry’s jaw.

“If you’d be ever so kind.”

“No, you’re not imposin’ or nothin’.” Eggsy sighs. The hand that was on his chest presses to his throat, and Harry’s lips claim his.

Eggsy lifts one hand to curl his fingers around Harry's neck, parting his lips, allowing Harry's tongue to swipe across the seam before delving in. "Good morning, indeed," Harry murmurs, gently nipping Eggsy's bottom lip, eliciting a sharp gasp before Eggsy turns his face away.

"Don't make me burn breakfast," Eggsy says, and he leans forward and turns off the hob. "C'mon then, lemme outta this cage so I can plate us up."

But Harry doesn't relent. He simply winds his arms around Eggsy a little tighter and exhales softly with his chin rested on his shoulder.

"Harry?" Eggsy murmurs. Harry's gone still and quiet behind him, simply pressing his face against Eggsy's neck. "Somethin' wrong?"

Another minute of silence passes between them, and Eggsy thinks of saying something about the food getting cold.

Then Harry pulls back just enough to ghost his lips against the nape of Eggsy's neck. “You know, Eggsy, you haven’t commented yet on how I failed to get you a Christmas present,” he says quietly against Eggsy’s hair, brushing his fingers over his shoulder lightly.

And sure, Eggsy realized he hadn’t gotten anything. Not that he felt entitled to gifts just because Harry would give them. He just didn't comment because it really wasn't a big deal.

Harry Hart was his gift; he was better than any gift any amount of money could buy. What right did Eggsy have to complain about not getting some meaningless material item with a bow stuck on top?

When he realizes Harry is awaiting an answer, he leans back into his embrace. “Really? Hadn’t noticed.”

“ _Eggsy_.”

Eggsy shrugs, “You’re busy. I mean, we both are. Harry, it's really not a big deal, love."

“Well, it’s not that I had forgotten. I acquired you a gift, as a matter of fact—but after all you did for me for Christmas, it . . . it seemed rather inadequate,” Harry says, brushing his hands down Eggsy’s back, curling his fingers around his narrow hips.

"They was just butterflies, Harry," Eggsy laughs.

"That's not entirely what I meant, sweet boy," comes the breath across his bare shoulders, and suddenly Eggsy feels very exposed. He shuffles back against Harry's chest, feeling the silken brush of his expensive button down.

"Oh . . . you mean the other thing," Eggsy huffs. "The jumper."

Harry laughs heavily against his neck, and Eggsy grins, because he knows he's eased some tension out of Harry's shoulders.

“Yes, I know you’re not one for sentiment, but I would rather like to get you something. Something of _your_ choice.”

“Yeah?”

Harry nods against his shoulder. “I had originally planned several gifts. Nothing too extravagant, mind, but none of them felt . . . appropriate,” he explains, and Eggsy snickers. “So I’d like to get something of your choosing. Anything you desire, darling, I will make it happen.”

Eggsy nuzzles back into Harry’s embrace, sighing with his whole being. “Anything?”

A kiss to the back of his neck makes Eggsy shiver. “Just so.”

And a thousand possibilities fall at Eggsy's feet. He wants to think them over in depth, but they have a previous engagement.

"First let’s just eat breakfast, yeah?" He says brightly, spinning in Harry's grasp to slide his arms around his neck.

Harry smiles, dazzling in the morning light, hair combed, gaze tender. "Of course, Eggsy," he replies, dipping his head to brush their lips together again. "Breakfast first."

**

The day carries on slowly, an afternoon walk with JB probably the most eventful part. After they’ve washed up and dressed for bed, Eggsy climbs into bed with Harry with full intent to go right to sleep.

He turns his back to Harry’s chest, settling against the mattress as Harry brings the blankets up around them.

JB’s sleeping on the foot of the bed, as he usually does when Harry and Eggsy aren’t engaged in any inappropriate activities. He seems glad for it, already snoring when Eggsy slides a foot under his warm belly.

Harry presses kisses to Eggsy’s bare shoulders, and Eggsy has never felt safer or more at home than when he’s simply wrapped in Harry’s arms. The feel of Harry all around him drags him down swiftly, and he’s almost asleep, he really is . . .

Then he remembers his gift.

About a million ideas crash into Eggsy’s brain at once. But fuck, the things he could get Harry to do. He could ask for anything. Most of the ideas are just fleeting thoughts—things that would be wonderful but impractical. Considering Harry’s generosity, Eggsy wouldn’t want to take advantage of the man he loves.

But still.

He could demand a week’s holiday somewhere remote with Harry. He could ask for the black winged Jeremy Scott trainers, because why the fuck not? He could insist that Harry wear his hair curly for the rest of their lives! The possibilities are just shy of endless.

But his mind settles on one thing—one brilliant, dazzling, impossible idea.

Something he’s thought of before.

"Harry . . . I think I've thought up a gift," he says softly, desperately hoping Harry's already asleep so this insane thought can pass out of his head.

But Harry makes a tired yet intrigued sound in his throat and brushes his thumb soothingly against Eggsy's collar bone. "Have you then? Well, let me hear it, darling."

Eggsy’s breath rises in his lungs and gets trapped there, a smile spreading across his lips. “As Arthur . . . you have a lot of say over what happens at Kingsman, yeah?”

Harry hums his assent.

“So . . . say someone wanted . . . like, hypothetically, to, erm . . . ” Eggsy curses in his head and bites his lip.

Harry’s arms around him squeeze tighter, and a hand cups his jaw, turning his face in against his shoulder. Harry kisses his cheek, and Eggsy sighs against it. “ _Anything_ , Eggsy.”

Well, he just blurts it out after that.

“I wanna add someone to the Round Table. I . . . ” he swallows hard, nails biting into the flesh of Harry’s forearm. “I want a—a new title, for a new knight.”

Harry is quiet, so Eggsy rolls slightly to see his face better. His mismatched gaze is wide, lips soft, puzzling. “Oh?”

“Like, a special position. For . . . ” God, he sounds like a complete tit, _why_ did he think he could ask for this?

“For?”

And _fuck_ , if only Harry would stop being so bloody perfect for three minutes so Eggsy could _breathe_ , thanks.

“For Arthur’s right hand. Like, each Arthur would pick this knight for the position. I . . . it would be like a trust thing, a real important position,” Eggsy continues, feeling dizzy as Harry watches him fall over himself with warmth in his gaze and the tiniest smile threatening to lift the corner of his mouth. “Like, they’d work real close with Arthur, and go on hand-picked missions, and be able to challenge orders given to them or the other knights. And they could represent the other Kingsmen for, like… If any of them had things they wanted changed. He’d be more like Merlin than the other knights, I guess—an advisor of sorts, but still under Arthur. He’d be next in command; sword and shield, real fuckin' sick."

“Sounds as if you’ve given this a great deal of thought.”

Eggsy makes a loud noise between a snort and a purr.

Harry hums and nods, kissing Eggsy’s shoulder, stroking his fingertips from his ribcage to his hip bone. “And what would this knight’s title be?”

And _fuck_ Eggsy if he never gives up, because he manages to get the name, “Excalibur,” out on a wheezy exhale, and squeezes his eyes shut and presses his face into Harry’s throat so the blush colouring his flesh can’t be seen.

He _should not_ have suggested that name; what a twat he is. Not only is Excalibur dangerously close to his own name, it literally means that he’s not fucking sharp! But at the same time, Excalibur is the sword that waited without rust for King Arthur to come. The sword that would only be drawn from the stone by Arthur’s hand, the sword that could only ever truly belong to the rightful king.

Eggsy is Excalibur to a fucking T, all things considered.

“A knight has not been added to the Kingsman Round Table since the founding of this institution,” Harry muses, and Eggsy feels like dying as a hundred thousand little bubbles burst inside of him.

He swallows around the pillow of his tongue.

Harry brushes his fingers through Eggsy’s hair, kisses his shoulder. “Eggsy, why do you feel Arthur needs such a knight at his side? Why should I break such a tradition and add someone new entirely to this ancient table?”

Eggsy whimpers, turns his face and buries his face against his arm, because he knows exactly why. It's the reason he thought up the idea in the first place—months ago. “. . . I can’t see you die again, Harry… I can’t. There’s just no way,” he whispers, and Harry doesn’t say anything. “Kingsman needs you. Needs leaders like you. And there always has to be someone willing to lay down their life for you in an instant, no matter what. And that someone has to know you; see the real you, and make sure you're being a good leader. They have to protect the world by protecting you—make sure you're bein' fair and good. And maybe… Maybe if there had been someone like that for Chester King, he wouldn’t have listened to Valentine. You wouldn’t have been shot. I…” Eggsy clears his throat and hugs the arm slung across his chest more tightly. “It just seemed like a good idea to me… But if it sounds like complete shit, I understand.”

A quiet hum of understanding vibrates in Harry’s chest, and he’s silent for a terribly long time.

Eggsy’s about to apologize, flail, possibly roll out of the bed and down the hall to hide his shame, when Harry says, “I love it," in a voice barely above a whisper.

Eggsy sits upright instantly. “Yeah? Ya mean it?”

Harry nods, cupping Eggsy’s throat to feel his racing pulse, to pull him in for a kiss. “I think it’s beautiful,” he sighs against Eggsy’s lips before he presses their mouths together insistently. “My Excalibur,” he moans, and Eggsy bites his lip to distract from the lightning response that name on Harry's tongue sends straight to his dick.

“ _Fuck_ , Harry, don’t mess with me,” Eggsy groans, but he’s smiling, and his cock is starting to wake itself up under Harry’s attention. Inappropriate behavior for bedtime. "I didn't say it had to be me."

"The desire was implied. And as you said, this knight would be of Arthur's choosing," Harry says, gripping Eggsy with immobilizing force. "I would choose no other."

Eggsy blushes darker, hit heart stuttering in his throat. "Flattery," he mumbles.

“Hush now. I’m being sincere,” Harry says against a freckle stamped to the line of Eggsy’s jaw. “We’ll have to hold a vote, of course. I may be Arthur, but we still have protocol, and some may think of this as me favoring you.”

And he’s damn right, because even considering it is insane.

“Should it not end well, I’ll do my best to find you another suitable gift.”

“Harry, you don’t”

“But I see no reason why it shouldn’t. Surely, Merlin, Roxy, Degore, and even Gawain will approve. Tristan, well, he’s Tristan. But it shan’t be hard to swing the panel in your favor. And with the replacement for Bors nearly complete, proposals for Galahad will have to be chosen, should the vote hold in your favor.”

Eggsy shivers. “I’ll miss wearin’ your name…” He closes his eyes, letting Harry tilt his head back to kiss the dark mark on his throat, a hand smoothing up the flat of his belly to press over his heart.

“This one will suit you better. Besides, you don’t have to wear the title to hold onto me anymore,” Harry says knowingly, and he hugs Eggsy tighter to him, slotting their bodies together seamlessly. “I’m here.”

“Way better to hold onto the real thing than a damn name, I ‘spose,” Eggsy sighs, eyelids like lead, his body a fluffy, numb mess.

“I agree completely,” Harry says warmly. “So it’s settled. I shall add a position to the table and name you Excalibur. That is your Christmas present.”

“You sure it’s that easy, Harry?”

“I’m Arthur, aren’t I? I’ll not deny my prince a thing while I hold command over Kingsman.”

Eggsy blushes. “You spoil me.”

“You’re incredibly self-aware, my darling.”

He thinks about all the changes this ancient institution has gone through since his arrival. He was named Galahad in honor of Harry’s death _without_ ceremony, he was sent on an official Kingsman mission _before_ receiving the title from Merlin, Harry repealed the secrecy act _for him_ , and whatever other miniscule details altered within the system that went unseen but were there, Eggsy was sure they were numerous.

Grinning, Eggsy settled back against Harry and sighed. “You must be really fond of me. Everything you do, just for me…”

Harry kisses the knob of bone at the top of his spine, sending the fine hairs at the base of his neck on end. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

Eggsy laughs, but he’s so wrung out, so tired now, it’s barely a sigh falling from his smiling lips. “I love you, Harry…”

Harry hugs him tighter, sighing across Eggsy’s shoulders. “Eggsy,” he whispers reverently, and Eggsy smiles, drugged on the affection and the afterglow, and brushes his thumbs across Harry’s arm crossed over his chest.

“Also, that gun holster like the one you have but in black?? I’ll need one of those, too,” Eggsy mumbles before kissing Harry’s knuckles.

Harry groans and nips a bare, freckled shoulder. “Cheek.”

“I love you, Harry. So very, very much, you know?”

“I’m aware, darling.”

“Cool,” Eggsy mutters, then yawns loudly, tears leaking from his eyes. “‘M so tired…”

“Go to sleep, my love.”

“Kay… Did I tell you I love you?”

“More than once. But it doesn’t hurt to say it once more,” Harry replies, and he feels sleep prickling at his nerves, the world starting to buzz out of focus.

He feels Eggsy’s heartbeat, smells the salt lingering on his skin, the sweet breath of shampoo in his hair. The world zeroes down to his darling boy in his arms, and Harry smiles against his shoulder blade and lets the steady rise and fall of Eggsy’s breath lull him into slumber.

“I love you, Eggsy,” he breathes, just before he loses his grasp on awareness.

**

It takes nearly two whole days for Harry to get everything in order, and around noon on the twenty-ninth, he’s dressed his best black pinstripe suit, knotting his navy and crimson tie at his throat when Eggsy comes back from a stroll with JB.

“Harry! I’m home,” Eggsy calls, and JB’s collar jingling follows the sound.

It’s a beautiful phrase, really; it’s one Harry never thought would sound so beautiful falling from someone’s lips. But he smiles without reserve, sliding his glasses on and giving himself a once over in the wide mirror in their bedroom.

JB reaches him first, breathing heavily and smiling that million dollar pug smile.

“Funniest fuckin’ thing happened at the park. This other dog—I mean, this _huge_ dog—”Eggsy breaks off laughing, and Harry can hear the top-most step creaking under his step.

When Eggsy strides into their room with his low-riding jeans and his tousled hair, Harry nearly forgoes the plan in favor of staying to kiss his darling boy senseless for a handful of hours.

Upon his entry, Eggsy also stops talking as his mouth drops open and his eyes take a very slow,thorough inventory of Harry’s attire.

Something nearly predatory flickers in Eggsy’s oceanic gaze, and his mouth shuts and his Adam’s apple bobs.

Harry turns to face him full on, smoothing his hand over the buttons cinching his waist. “What about the dog, lovely?”

Eggsy’s brows arch, and he crosses his arms over the expanse of his chest. “Where you goin’ lookin’ like sex in a suit, huh?”

Harry ducks his chin down with a laugh. “To work?” He says with a smile, crossing the room to cuff his hands around Eggsy’s hips. When he leans in for a kiss, Eggsy lifts his hand and presses his fingers to Harry’s lips.

“Thought we didn’t have to go back to work til after New Year’s,” he grumbles matter-of-factly, a sharp glint in his flawless eyes.

“ _You_ are off assignment until the second. _I_ am Arthur, and therefore, always on the clock.”

“Bullshit, Harry. Whatever it is, can’t Merlin handle it?”

“Now, Eggsy. Much as I’d like to, I can’t just play hookie for you whenever I feel like it.”

Eggsy squares his jaw and scoffs loudly, crossing his arms again.

Harry finds it both endearing and exasperating. “ _Eggsy_ ,” he says sharply, and lifts one hand to cup Eggsy’s jaw and tip his head up. His thumb presses to the corner of Eggsy’s mouth, softening his scowl, and the touch eases the pinch of his brows. “Sweet boy, there will be countless times where one of us will be called away from the other for the sake of our work. You mustn’t let these times ruin the moments we share together. Understand?”

Eggsy grumbles something about how it’s still shit, and Harry smiles and presses in, lightly touching his mouth to Eggsy’s as if he were kissing a snowflake. _That_ softens his boy right up, and Eggsy unfolds his arms and slides his hands over Harry’s chest, up over his shoulders.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Harry sighs, feathering kisses across Eggsy’s closed eyelids.

A frustrated groan escapes Eggsy’s throat like. “How long you gonna be gone then? We’re still gonna do somethin’ fun on New Year’s, yeah?”

“Of course, my darling. Shouldn’t take me any longer than forty-eight hours at the most.”

Eggsy sighs, one hand curling around the nape of Harry’s neck, the other brushing down his chest like he just can’t resist touching him. “Fine . . . _fine_ , alright then. You’d better get your arse outta here so you can come back sooner,” he grumbles, like he’s doing Harry a favour.

It makes him smile. “Yes, of course, darling. You’re right.”

They make it downstairs with minimal fuss from Eggsy, and Harry turns to him and tells him to make sure he eats properly and gets enough sleep.

Eggsy makes a noise, dangerously similar to a snort.

Harry pauses, glancing over his shoulder from where he is lacing up his Oxfords. Eggsy’s leaning in the entryway of the sitting room, all long limbs and pouting lips. “What was that?”

Eggsy shrugs, looking into the kitchen as if he finds it very interesting suddenly.

“Eggsy?”

He makes a noncommittal sound. “I can’t make promises. I mean, I’ll be here, all alone… Who’s to say what kind of trouble I’ll manage to get into?” He glances over at Harry with a challenge in his eyes, and it makes a muscle in Harry’s jaw twitch.

“. . . Are you trying to blackmail me into staying by suggesting you’ll behave as anything other than perfectly?”

The corner of Eggsy’s mouth twitches, but he manages to regain composure and tilts his head to the side, gaze sweeping away from Harry effortlessly. Were Harry watching the action as Arthur observing a Kingsman, he would have been utterly besotted with pride. It was a remarkable gesture of indifference laced with the perfect amount of playful seduction. But he just sees it for what it truly is—Eggsy’s continued act of defiance—and it puts tension on the thread of Harry’s patience.

He rises smoothly, turning to give Eggsy a pointed stare. “I know you wouldn’t dare try to use a promise of bad behavior to get me to stay, Eggsy. You’re above that, I know.”

Eggsy knocks his head back against the wall, baring his throat with a coy smirk. “Am I?”

It takes Harry two steps to close the distance between them, gripping Eggsy’s hip and pressing a hand to his clavicle to pin him against the wall. Whatever gasping noise of protest Eggsy would have made is bitten down by Harry’s bruising kiss. Harry’s hands are rough, his teeth nipping Eggsy’s bottom lip, coaxing his mouth open with a needy sigh.

Eggsy wishes his bite was as sharp as his bark, at least in the case of Harry Hart.

But he’s pathetic; fucking putty in this man’s hands, bones melted, nerves afire, and he feels all the world crushed down to the wall at his back and Harry at his front.

They kiss for ages, Harry in complete control, Eggsy completely at his mercy. The tiny moans that slip from Eggsy’s mouth are enough to have Harry grinding his thigh against Eggsy's cock, his own pressing against the jut of his boy's hip.

When Eggsy looks up, gripping onto Harry's shoulders for dear life, Harry’s expression is neutral, but there is a mighty storm in the light of his whiskey gaze, his pupil the deep, wide center. The blush of rose and the shine of spit on Harry's mouth is the only other sign that anything just happened between them, and Eggsy wants to ruin the rest of Harry's composure.

"Can't you be good for me, Eggsy?"

That sends a jolt straight to Eggsy's cock, and he swallows around the sudden lump in his throat, his hands clamming up as he palms them over Harry's shoulders, bunching the fabric of his suit.

Harry leans in closer, his lips barely touching Eggsy's, a fiery whisper, a heated promise.

"Can't you be my good boy?" Harry breathes huskily, and Eggsy gives a full-fucking body shudder. He can't control himself, and Harry smiles and gives a breathy laugh, using his nose to turn Eggsy's face so he can brush his lips teasingly against the boy's pulse. This is exactly what he knew would happen—Eggsy can’t be bad. He craves praise too deeply. The need is in his bones, and Harry may be an arse for taking advantage of that, but he enjoys it nearly as much as his boy. "I know what a good boy you can be. And I'll be so, _so_ pleased with you if you can do this for me."

His fingers brush the zip of Eggsy's jeans.

Eggsy whimpers and clutches at Harry's suit jacket.

" _Harry_. . . "

"Hm, do this for me, and when I return home, I will _lavish_ you with gratitude." _And praise_ hangs on Harry's lips, but instead of saying it, he brushes the words against Eggsy's throat and gives him a little nip, squeezing his hip with one hand while the other brushes up under Eggsy's soft t-shirt, right to his quivering, bare belly. "Alright, darling? Does that sound agreeable?"

"Yes, Harry. _Fuck_ , yes," Eggsy rushes out without hesitation, breathless as he nods against Harry's shoulder. "I'll be your good boy," he whispers helplessly, then turns his face and nips the spot beneath Harry's ear. " _Fuck, so good for you._ C'mon, lemme show you how good I can be." He tries to push Harry back, tries to fall to his knees.

Harry shoves him against the wall with the barest of effort and hovers his mouth over Eggsy's. "We've no time, Eggsy. I have to get to the shop."

" _But—_ "

"A gentleman does not tease, Eggsy. This is a promise—if you can simply behave, I’ll come home and I will _ravish_ you."

" _Christ_ , you can't talk like that, Harry. You're gonna fuck me up—"

A kiss, pressing and warm, shuts Eggsy right up.

"It’s never enough for you, is it? I kiss you, you want to fall to your knees. I touch your skin, you want to spread your legs," Harry says fondly, as if those words don’t undo Eggsy's sanity and leave the coil of warmth in his belly twisting. He keens to show as much.

"You promise you'll be good to me? When you get home?"

"Aren't I always?" He places a kiss on Eggsy’s nose.

"Better than good, then."

Harry sighs and pulls back, sliding his hand out from under Eggsy's shirt to cup his cheeks with both hands. "I promise."

One last kiss, and Harry presses their foreheads together and sighs against Eggsy’s lips.

“I love you,” Eggsy whispers, fingers curling into the hair at Harry’s nape, and those words are all Harry will ever need.

“I’ll be home soon,” he says quietly, trailing his knuckles against Eggsy’s perfect cheekbone, curving them under his jaw. When Eggsy gets the message, he tilts his head back until his lips are parallel to the ceiling, throat bared, and Harry kisses the mark there, his dangerous undoing. Eggsy shudders, and Harry lets him go and pulls away before he loses his nerve and forgets the whole thing. “Remember—”

“Be good,” Eggsy says, still dazed as he lowers his jaw and casts his gaze to the floor, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth and biting.

Harry’s stomach drops hotly. “That’s my boy,” he says warmly, then turns and leaves. When the front door swings shut behind him, the echo it whispers down the stone pathway is just another cable of Harry’s resolve being pulled tight.

It’s only his job to try.

He has to remember, Eggsy doesn’t expect this to work. This is a symbol of Harry’s affection and respect, at best. It may not succeed.

But Harry tips his jaw up and walks himself and his resolve to the car waiting at the curb.

A Kingsman never fails.

**

Merlin has always had a disdain for attending meetings, especially off campus from HQ.

Usually, Harry gives him a very good reason for having to call the knights in, especially with most of them on mission abroad.

He falls gracefully into his seat at the head of the Round Table, and a tiny smile touches his lips at how once, not long ago, Eggsy pitched the biggest fit about how the round table was most certainly not round.

"You know, Harry, typically you tell me what a meeting is about before I actually go through the trouble of gathering all the knights up for a congregation," Merlin says bluntly, swiping his finger over the screen of his clipboard.

Harry smooths his hair back with one hand, letting out a steady breath. "I'm afraid if I'd done that, the meeting would have been cancelled before it began."

Merlin quirks a brow at that. "I'm not sure I like where this is going."

"You might just yet," Harry says, folding his hands on the table in front of him. "Now then . . .  ring them in."

A few minutes pass, then the door swings open, and Tristan is fixing his tie, Roxy behind him.

Roxy sits to Harry's left, crossing her legs and giving Merlin a questioning look. He simply shrugs, tapping something on his clipboard.

Hector comes in next, and swings the door shut behind him before he sits in his seat, not a red curl out of place.

"Tristan, Lancelot, Hector. You're the only three Kingsmen in London at the current time," Merlin explains. He tilts his chin in Harry's direction. "Arthur, the rest of the knights, save Degore and Galahad, will be attending the meeting through comm transmission, but a full data deposit will be made to Degore’s feed to be reviewed when his mission is less critical, which should occur within eight hours."

Harry nods, swiping his finger against the frame of his glasses.

Along the table, the other knights appear in vivid hologram, with the only empty seats being Bors, Degore, and Eggsy's seat beside him. It makes him feel a little uneasy, but Harry couldn't expect him to be present at such a meeting and for him to be comfortable through it. So Harry takes a deep breath, and goes over his speech once more in his mind. "Good day, Kingsmen."

Everyone tilts their heads at him, "Arthur."

“I’m sure everyone’s interested in what could be so significant as to call you all together at such a strange time and on such an odd date, no less,” Harry says simply, glancing down to register the slight tremor that has taken residence in the fingers of his right hand.

A weight drags down his stomach, and a hot pressure rises in his throat.

He swallows it down thinking of Eggsy.

“But I’ve gathered you here for a very paramount occasion.”

“Sounds imperative, Arthur,” Tristan goads in a terribly professional manner, and beyond them, Merlin gives his tablet a dubious stare.

“Indeed it is, Tristan,” Harry sighs, looking down over at Roxy. “This… _This_ will change the future of Kingsmen.”

Gawain straightens at that, and Hector arches a brow and leans towards Harry, intrigued. Kay’s brows furrow, and he looks anywhere that isn’t another human face.

The corner of Roxy’s mouth twitches. She has no idea what’s going on—Eggsy didn’t have time to text her such information, and Harry didn’t tell him of the meeting. But she’s sharp as a razor, after all, and whatever’s going on, she knows it’s something stupendously big.

“Arthur, if I may, where’s Galahad?” She says lightly, and Percival gives her a gently admonishing stare.

Harry smiles at her. “At home, for now. I thought it best he not be present for this meeting in particular.”

“Any particular reason for that, Arthur? If it’s not too invasive,” Percival says sternly.

A duck of the head and Harry’s laughing, nearly bashfully, at the polished surface of the table in front of him. “Well, I’m quite glad you asked, Percival. Merlin, if you would,” Harry says, and Merlin nods.

He’s thumbing across his tablet and the painting on the wall becomes a screen of the Kingsman insignia before it spins into the dramatic cover page of Harry’s proposal.

“Galahad could not be present at this meeting because it entails a serious shift in his position here at Kingsmen and his vote, at the end of this assembly, would be meaningless,” Harry says firmly. He closes his fists together and squeezes, tries to use his left hand to crush the tremble out of the right.

He thinks of Eggsy.

He sees Eggsy shirtless in their kitchen, the strong line of his neck and back pale in the morning light, his bare feet pressed to the gold tiles. He sees him curled in the dark tangle of their blankets and sheets, golden hair spilled across the pillow as he smiles up at Harry, gorgeous and elegant and terribly splendid.

Eggsy’s brilliant eyes and his smart mouth are the reason Harry’s sitting in this meeting with a nervous twinge in his usually steel stomach. His sarcastic charm and his incredible heart. Eggsy Unwin; his world, his light, his darling boy.

“The focal point of this gathering is the nomination and assignment of Gary Unwin, codename Galahad, to a _new_ knight position amongst the Kingsman ranks.”

A collective intake of breath drags through the air, the closest thing to an outright gasp any trained Kingsman is willing to give in surprise.

Bedivere goes as far as covering his mouth with his hand.

Harry smiles. “Gentlemen, this meeting is to put _Excalibur_ upon the round table.”

**

It’s a fucking shitstorm, to summarize.

After Harry’s statement, there’s not much control left over.

Kay doesn’t say a word, so he’s the only blessing in the meeting when the brows furrow and the demanding questions start pouring out. Brunor actually stands up out of his chair at one point, when voices are climbing over one another and Harry is staring at Merlin, conversing telepathically.

The responses to Harry’s pleas for help are a giant scottish middle finger to the face.

Roxy is the first to ask a serious question, rather than just trample over the proposal as the others had.

“What would his purpose be, Arthur? I’m positive you wouldn’t try to rewrite the DNA of such an ancient institution for the sake of _doting_ let alone as a display of _favoritism_ ,” she says, turning a cold, calculating hazel glare at the rest of the table.

They had been all too hasty to use such words, after all, and on the other side of the table, Merlin ducks his head to hide his smug smile.

“Certainly not, Lancelot. In fact, the idea had not been entirely my own, as it were.”

 _That_ rouses a strained groan from somewhere, and Percival practically face-palms. “So this was _Galahad’s_ idea.”

“Figures as much—”Hector snickers, though it’s not in a condescending nor reproachful tone. It’s nearly fond.

But Roxy cuts in again, “His _purpose_.”

Harry swallows smoothly, giving her a tense smile. “To protect Arthur and Kingsman at all costs. To hold Arthur’s safety above all other things in the realm of importance, and to be a voice of reason in times of trouble.”

Tristan chokes on his water.

“Don’t we all do that already?” Hector butts in.

“Not quite so. Galahad’s concern was placed very heavily on Chester King and how he nearly destroyed this institution with his own selfish ideals. Galahad proposed this idea as a safe-guard for the entirety of Kingsman, in possible times of future chaos, such as the Valentine incident. He suggested one knight be placed above the others; he did not even suggest himself for the position. He merely wanted someone for future Round Tables to always have enough power over this agency to stop something like the Valentine corruption from happening,” Harry says smoothly. He’s rehearsed enough of a speech to manage his way through without stammering, despite how his heart is beating so hard. “The most important role of Excalibur would be the safety of Arthur’s moral soundness at the price of his own unfaltering loyalty.

“I know none of us saw Chester’s betrayal coming. I cannot say how relieved I was that none of you fell privy to it. The point of Excalibur is just that—to keep Arthur from endangering the world’s safety. I’m aware of the power I hold sitting at the head of this table. Think of Excalibur as a Killswitch that keeps these fingers from releasing dangerous files to enemies, from detonating bombs and crashing satellites.”

“That’s a lot of power,” Tristan drawls, “to put in the hands of the youngest member of this establishment…”

“Indeed, it is,” Harry says quietly. “But Egg— _Galahad_ is the most capable person of holding this position. I swear to you, all of you, this is not about _nepotism_ , nor even the romantic and physical relationship I have with him.”

At that, everyone shifts in their seats a tad—aside from Roxy. Yes, they know, but nobody talks about it.

“This is about my full belief in Galahad’s capacity and wherewithal to understand me and my inner workings well enough to notice the instant I am compromised,” Harry continues. He turns and looks up at Merlin. “Merlin, you are my best friend. This is a fact. You would be my second choice in this promotion.”

Merlin shrugs. “I like paperwork more than babysitting. Dinnae fret about stepping on my toes, Hart.”

Harry smiles, the easy way Merlin replies lifting a heavy tension from his shoulders.

“Well, I’m sure you all have more questions. To simplify, this doctrine holds all the answers,” he gestures to the proposal in front of him, as it’s already been scanned and transferred to everyone’s data feed. “Any important questions not specified in the paperwork, you can reach me on my private line. I’ll be in my office. This meeting will resume in twenty-four hours, when we shall rendezvous here and you all submit your ballot for the vote. After that, the paperwork shall be signed and submitted, and, should the vote rise in favor, we shall have a new chair at this panel come the new year.”

Everyone nods, some a little more reluctantly than others.

“Thank you, everyone. You’re dismissed.”

When the holographic forms of the knights dissolve, Harry is left with only four other bodies, though Tristan and Hector rise from their chairs fluidly and promptly leave.

Harry drops his face into his hands, and Roxy’s warm touch on his shoulder makes him slouch further.

“Well… That went fucking shit,” Merlin says helpfully.

Harry practically snorts, and when he looks up at his friend, the smile Merlin’s wearing is enough to ease his nerves for a bit longer. “I don’t know about you two… But I could use a drink.”

Roxy laughs, a bright thing, and pats Harry’s shoulder twice before rising. “I second the motion.”

“Eggsy has no idea what you’re doing right now, does he?” Merlin asks, and Harry shakes his head. “This didn’t exactly come out of nowhere, did it? Do you know how long Eggsy’s been meaning to add a body to the table?”

Harry shakes his head.

“Then when in the hell did he suggest this? What’s it for?”

Glancing up at Merlin, Harry tries to fight the spritely smile that curves his lips.

“It’s a Christmas present.”

**

  
  
  
  


It’s nine o’clock on New Year’s Eve and Eggsy Unwin is sat at home alone in his pyjamas folding laundry.

Though Harry said he’d only be gone around forty-eight hours, that time frame passed at noon, which was a dreadful fucking _nine_ hours ago.

He couldn’t call or text him, Eggsy knew. That would make him troublesome. So he spent the two days of Harry’s absence in quiet solitude at their house with only JB for company.

Bluntly put, December 31st is one of the most boring fucking days in the history of Eggsy’s life.

He spent the morning listening to David Attenborough describe the complexities of several different lifeforms in several different places of the earth.

The afternoon was highlighted by a walk with JB and a long phone call with his mum while he made himself a few sandwiches.

The early evening is spent with Eggsy showering thoroughly, fighting the urge to spend longer with his hands between his legs. Once he’s clean and dried, he takes JB around the block and pretends he’s not losing his mind missing Harry, bored at home.

Passing the deadline for Harry’s return is shit, because he was told he wouldn’t have to wait, and _that_ is the hardest part, after all, because he can’t make plans with Ryan or Jamal just to cancel because Harry returns suddenly. So he apologizes to his mates—and his mum and Daisy, damn it—and says he’s staying in for the night.

But of course, Eggsy, the resourceful creature he is, manages to get through a menacing fifty-seven hours without word from Harry.

He’s making an attempt at folding clean sheets when he hears keys jingling down the hall. Then the front door swings open downstairs and then closes with a soft snik. Eggsy’s practically bursting out of his skin, grinning like a moron and dropping the stupid bed skirt in favor of running down the stairs so quickly he nearly cracks his head on the wall.

“ _Harry!_ ” Eggsy exclaims like a breathless child, stopping at the bend in the stairs to see JB sat with his curled tail wagging at Harry’s feet as he shrugs out of his coat.

Harry looks up at him, a single wisp of his bangs fallen over his eyepatch, and smiles with dazzling brilliance. “Darling,” he sighs, and Eggsy jumps the rest of the stairs and is in Harry’s arms a moment later.

He buries his face into Harry’s chest and breathes, wrapping his arms around Harry’s slim waist and squeezing. “You’re home.”

“Yes, sweet boy,” Harry says warmly, one hand petting Eggsy’s hair, the other arm wrapped snugly around his shoulders. “I’m sorry it took so long.”

There’s something charged in Harry’s frame. It’s something new and different to Eggsy, like he can feel electric energy buzzing through Harry and into him, sparking a static mess in his chest.

Eggsy pulls back and looks up, shaking his head. “No big deal. You’re home now, and I don’t plan on lettin’ you get away from me again for the next coupla days,” he says, grinning.

Harry’s mouth turns up at the corner. “Spoilt thing. Release me now, if you would.”

Eggsy rolls his eyes and relents, but not before Harry has kissed the top of his head warmly, turning back to his coat hanging from the rack. He removes a long box from one of the inner pockets, sleek and dark gold, and turns it over in his hands. Those blue eyes go crystal bright, and Eggsy brightly gasps, “You got me a present?”

“Two, actually. But I could only wrap the one,” Harry says, setting the gift on one of the decorative coffee tables in the hall. “It’s that black gun holster you wanted,” he says matter-of-factly. “It will fit seamlessly under any of your bespoke suits. Even a few of those awful track suits of yours,” he teases.

Eggsy rolls his eyes and makes a loud noise of disapproval. “You _love_ my arse in nylon. And now you’ve gone and ruined the surprise.”

“That’s not the surprising one,” Harry says warmly, and when Eggsy glances up from the table, Harry’s crowding into his space, hands cupping Eggsy’s cheeks to pull him up for a kiss.

Their mouths slot together and Harry moans against Eggsy’s lips, instantly shooting fire through his veins. “Harry, what in the—”

“I can’t tell you how proud, how excited . . . oh, my Eggsy.”

“Harry, what’s goin’ on?”

“Do you remember what you asked for for Christmas, Eggsy? When I promised you anything in the world?”

Eggsy’s heart crawls up into his throat, and he leans back and blinks up at Harry. “. . . I remember pretty fuckin’ well.”

Harry smiles at him, one hand cupping his neck, the other sliding down to curl his fingers around Eggsy’s wrist. “Kneel for me, darling.”

Eggsy does without question, though he’s a bit confused and operating mostly on adrenaline. He stares up at Harry, who’s cupping his chin, gently releasing his hand. There’s a dangerous amount of love in Harry’s stare, something so piercing and pure it could physically wound.

“Now rise . . . ” Harry says softly, and his smile could nearly be a grin. “ _Excalibur_.”

The name sends about a thousand volts of lightning through Eggsy’s blood, sparks his heart into overdrive and makes the world go fuzzy and silent for a moment.

Then the beating thunder of his heart catches up to Eggsy’s brain, and his dry mouth falls open.

“Harry, are you fuckin—” Eggsy is cut off when Harry dips down to claim his mouth with desperate lips.

“My darling boy, they approved it. You’re going to be Excalibur. Merlin just has to put the paperwork through, and by tomorrow morning, you’ll be Excalibur!” Harry wraps his arms around Eggsy’s waist and hoists him up, and Eggsy would squeal, were his mouth not instantly reclaimed.

When Eggsy is set down again, Harry beams at him, cupping his cheeks and kissing him once more. “Of course, there will be a formal celebration once all the knights have returned to London. It will be a proper knighting ceremony, and then the title of Galahad will be open for a new batch of recruits. I'm so happy for you, darling! I would have been home sooner, but when we reconvened for the vote, everyone insisted on another twenty-four hours, so I simply had to extend it. I hope you’re not dreadfully cross with me," Harry says, talking quickly enough for it to nearly be considered rambling, were he not a gentleman incapable of such human faults.

Eggsy wants to reply, but then Harry's kissing him _again_ , warm and pressing and it makes his nerve endings tingle and puts a foggy haze over his brain.

When everything tumbles into place, Eggsy breaks the kiss to gasp up at the ceiling. “Holy fuck, are you serious, Harry?”

“Yes, my darling.”

“ _Holy fuck!_ I’m Excalibur!”

Harry laughs and spins them around again, and Eggsy feels like the flesh and blood embodiment of a firework.

"You're not takin' the piss, right? I'm really gonna be fuckin' Excalibur?"

Harry kisses his neck warmly. "The first of the name, my darling boy. I have the votes on my specs right now to prove it.”

"You're jokin'."

"Well they were submitted anonymously, but as Arthur, I have the security clearance to unscramble and decode their submission. I wasn't going to, but I thought maybe, perhaps, you'd like to see?" Harry asks, smiling at the flush of excitement creeping across Eggsy's face.

"You sure that's alright, Harry?"

"Well, as per the doctrine written up entailing Excalibur's clearance and privileges as my sword and shield, yes. Yes I am sure."

" . . . Alright, you talked me into it! Let's have ‘em!" Eggsy exclaims, and Harry removes his glasses and places them gently on Eggsy's face.

Eggsy presses the side of the specs and watches the document unfold, Harry having already prepared it for him.

There's the dossier already spread out, paperwork and a recording detailing the meeting, the signatures scrawling down the fine individual prints, stamps, seals, a waiting list for the paperwork that is to come once Merlin writes and finalizes it.

Then Eggsy goes on to find the actual votes cast on digitized stationary, and he takes in a sharp breath.

"Something wrong?" Harry says softly.

Eggsy's jaw drops. "I wasn't expectin' the feedback to be so positive . . . "

"You're a fantastic Kingsman, Eggsy, and a brilliant friend. I was surprised there were any negative votes at all," Harry tells him, running his hands down Eggsy's arms.

"Kay . . . " Eggsy breathes, completely shocked, because next to the knight's fingerprint and signet insignia, beneath the Kingsman logo, is his vote.

Y _ay, nay_ , or _insert suggestion_.

Kay picked _yay._

_"Holy shit."_

"That one was most surprising indeed," Harry muses.

Eggsy examines the rest. Roxy and Merlin had been dead weight on the _yay,_ followed up by Degore, Tristan, Hector, and Gawain. Percival and Bedivere both suggested other Knights—Percival had put forward Roxy, and Bedivere himself.

The only _nay_ was Brunor, but Eggsy wasn't even upset by that. He knew the man was a tight-arse for tradition, and though he never gave Eggsy shit for his background, he definitely never clapped him on the shoulder or shared in a friendly pint like the others had.

His only surprise was Kay.

"He must’ve had a stroke—or a seizure. This was an accidental vote." Eggsy laughs breathlessly, and Harry shakes his head.

"Each knight was asked twice if their choice was final. He was second to Roxy to cast his ballot and didn't make a single move to change his mind the other two times."

"Fuckin' mental," comes Eggsy's gasp.

Harry removes his glasses from Eggsy's face and leans back, smiling down at him. "Whatever the case, you are now my Excalibur, sweet boy . . . how do you feel about that?"

Harry brushes his knuckles down Eggsy's cheek, cups his throat in the other hand, and draws Eggsy close. Eggsy’s nerves are shot, and while he shivers, Eggsy’s blood sings at the sound of that name, now _his_ name, falling from Harry’s lips.

The reality has Eggsy buzzing . . . the images of the official documents, the video feed he could have clicked on capturing the meeting . . . this is real. This is real, this is happening, he's going to be Excalibur.

He _is_ Excalibur.

"Harry, this is the sickest shit that's ever happened to me," Eggsy rushes out, panting and laughing as he lets himself tumble into Harry's arms, barely holding himself upright.

"And you rightfully deserve it. This may be the last gift of such magnitude you receive from me for some time, given the circumstances. Especially at HQ—I’ll have to lean away from giving you too much leniency or attention. At least for now."

"Fuckin' fine by me. So long as we get go out for a nice dinner together once a month and you shag me proper when I'm not in the field."

"I have been blessed with a young lover who is terribly easy to please," Harry teases.

"You're too much for me, Harry. I'll never deserve you—not ever. Can’t believe you did this for me, you amazing fucking human being," Eggsy murmurs, then wraps his arms around Harry's neck and rises onto his toes to kiss him properly.

"I missed you," Eggsy says, and Harry's arms around his waist tighten, a agreeable groan escaping from the back of Harry's throat.

"And I you, my prince," Harry sighs, running his palms up Eggsy's back to cup his shoulder in one hand and to cradle the back of his head. "It was hell without you. What am I going to do when a mission takes you to another country for several weeks?"

Eggsy groans, crushing himself to Harry's body seamlessly.

“It will be like death itself.”

“You fuckin’ poetic arse,” Eggsy grins, letting Harry kiss down his jaw before stopping with a groan at his collar bone.

“You’re terrible, Eggsy,” Harry remarks, biting along his shoulder, the hollow of his throat. “You’re so damn beautiful. You magnificent thing, Eggsy, my god. _My Excalibur_.”

“All yours,” Eggsy says with a grin, and the name sends red-hot sparks racing through his blood like shooting stars.

Harry moans, _fuck_ , and Eggsy chokes. “I just remembered something wonderful.”

“That I’m yours?”

“No, you cheeky brat,” Harry laughs, leaning back to look down at Eggsy. He’s staring at him with a heavy dose of affection, heavy and rich and practically devastating. His smile broadens, and Harry looms over Eggsy, pressing him into the door as he slides his knee deftly between Eggsy’s thighs. “As I recall, I made you a very particular promise before I left.”

Eggsy’s brows arch, and liquid heat pools in the pit of his stomach. He’s speechless.

Harry likes that, perhaps more than he should, and he tilts his mouth against Eggsy’s and bites his lip. “Do you remember what that promise was, my good boy?”

A quivering breath falls from Eggsy’s lips. “I . . . may recall.”

“Hm. And what did I say?”

Eggsy squirms. “ _Harry . . ._ ”

“Go on. Tell me. Have pity on an old man’s memory,” Harry says innocently, brushing a thumb over Eggsy’s bare shoulder, the other sliding under his shirt to curl around his bare torso.

“You . . . you promised if I . . . if I was a g—good boy,” Eggsy breathes, and Harry’s thumb digs into his hip bone and tugs him forward.

“And you were, weren't you, sweet? So good.”

“ _Fuck_.”

“Go on then. If you were my good boy?” Harry pushes.

“That you’d lavish me with gratitude,” Eggsy gasps.

“I did say that. I recall I said I’d ravish you,” Harry replies, biting into his neck. Eggsy whines, grinding his hips forward, his cock swelling against Harry’s thigh. “Insatiable as always,” Harry growls, letting Eggsy rut against his leg. “Already so willing for me.”

“Harry, please,” Eggsy whispers.

“Of course, my love,” Harry replies, and slots his mouth over Eggsy’s once more.

A calloused hand brushes up his bare side, and Eggsy whimpers. He thinks there must be something wrong with him, as Harry drags him off the door and spins them around, forcing Eggsy backwards towards the stairs without breaking their kiss. It’s impossible, incredible, how hot Harry gets him, how the slightest display of Harry’s strength has his cockhead leaking.

“Fuck,” Eggsy moans when he stumbles and falls onto his arse on the stairs, Harry barely catching him but not following him down. That leaves him standing over Eggsy with that dangerous, lusty glow in his eyes, his mouth damp with spit, his breath still so slow and controlled. “ _Fuck_.”

“That’s the idea, my boy,” Harry says, curving his fingers under Eggsy’s jaw, forcing his lips open with his thumb.

Eggsy suckles it eagerly, locking his hand around Harry’s wrist while the other reaches blindly for his trousers. He slurs something against the pad of Harry’s thumb, and it makes him laugh heavily.

“What’s that, darling?” he asks, swatting at Eggsy’s hand.

Eggsy removes the thumb from his mouth and uses both hands to grip Harry’s trousers and yank him forward. “Fuck me, Harry. Right here, please, _please_ , fuck me.”

Harry huffs out a laugh, tangling his fingers into Eggsy’s hair and tugging back, forcing him to bare his neck and cling to the belt loops of his trousers for balance. “Unacceptable. You’ve been such a good boy, Eggsy. Why would I force you onto your hands and knees on the stairs and fuck you until you cry? Until your knees are bruised and your shoulders ache?”

Eggsy mewls brokenly, dropping his head back against the stairs. Harry follows, lying over Eggsy to kiss his mouth softly.

“Perhaps another time. When a lesson needs to be taught.”

 _Fuck_ , Eggsy hopes he gets the chance to misbehave soon.

“But right now? This is a celebratory occasion. You deserve a warm bed; only the best for my darling boy. Only the best for my Excalibur.”

 _Fuck,_ there it is again, sparking fires in Eggsy’s blood and fogging his brain. This might even be worse than when Harry first called him _darling boy_. Biting his lip, Eggsy slides his hands up under Harry’s jacket to feel the heat of his flesh through his shirt. “Will you still fuck me ‘til I cry?”

A smiling kiss is pressed to Eggsy’s lips, and he feels dizzy and drunk with it. “Ravenous little monster.”

“That a yes?”

Harry takes this opportunity to hook his fingers into Eggsy’s drawstrings and tug them down under the curve of his arse, catching them on his bent knees. “Well, aren’t you just perfect,” Harry says, kissing Eggsy’s knee.

Eggsy whimpers a laugh as he helps Harry by kicking out of his pajama bottoms. “Be more perfect if we were both naked.”

Harry sits back and cocks an eyebrow. “Demanding, aren’t you?” he asks dryly, slowly unbuttoning the front of his suit, shrugging out of it before tossing it to the foot of the stairs.

That makes Eggsy burn, heat flaring in his stomach, and he brushes his fingers down the line of buttons riding down Harry’s broad chest.

“Your turn,” Harry whispers, and Eggsy grins, biting his lip and rising up to kiss Harry’s chin.

“Catch me first,” Eggsy whispers, then twists free of the cage of Harry’s body and bolts up the stairs.

Harry does catch him, of course, right before Eggsy reaches the bedroom door, and he practically shrieks a peal of laughter in terror and delight as Harry wraps his arms around his waist and lifts him off the ground, spinning him around in the hall.

In the dizzy rush of adrenaline, Eggsy barely notices he’s been carried into the room before gravity is swooping up under him and he bounces on the bed.

“As if you could outrun me,” Harry teases, unbuttoning his dress shirt and dropping it beside the bed, revealing to Eggsy the hard planes of his chest and stomach. “A valiant effort, though,” he adds, unfastening his button and zip, dragging the teeth apart slowly as Eggsy sits up on his elbows and watches, his mouth shamelessly agape. “Fair is fair, Eggsy. Your turn.”

Eggsy grins, sitting up and yanking his shirt over his head. His attempt at being as sexy as Harry fails miserably. Eggsy gets effectively lost in the extra material.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he groans helplessly, and Harry’s hands brush up his hips to his chest, thumbs sweeping over his nipples. Eggsy shudders, goosebumps breaking out across his flesh as his breath gets trapped in his lungs.

“I really do adore this shirt,” Harry laughs, deftly removing Eggsy’s shirt in one fluid motion. “Ah, there you are,” he states lightly, Eggsy’s hair feathered to high heaven.

“Hi,” Eggsy snickers, and Harry smiles, tossing the shirt to the foot of the bed. “You are showing a serious disregard for clothing tonight,” Eggsy remarks teasingly.

Harry’s smile broadens, and he shoves his trousers down around his ankles and kicks out of them. Eggsy gapes, eyes locked to the damp stain leaking at the front of Harry’s boxer briefs, and the coil of pleasure in his gut twists anxiously like a sudden drop.

In response, Harry cups his jaw in one hand, leaning into Eggsy’s space, crushing the emptiness between them until he’s forced to lay back against the mattress under Harry. “I have a serious disregard for anything getting between you and I at the moment, my dear boy.” He shrugs. “Especially something so trivial as clothing.”

“We could eliminate the clothing permanently, eh?” Eggsy laughs.

Harry’s expression softens, his brows raising as he looks off to the side in thought and nods. “Not an entirely terrible suggestion,” he remarks, taking Eggsy’s wrists in his hands and using one to pin them above his head. “But you’d catch cold too easily.”

“Would not,” Eggsy grumbles, fussing against the sudden restraint despite the heat that blossoms in his belly because of it.

A smile is kissed against his throat, collarbone, then a sharp pinch of teeth strikes just above his nipple, and Eggsy gasps sharply and bucks his hips. Harry’s free hand forces him back down against the bed, and then his tongue is laving Eggsy’s nipple in hot, wet strokes.

“ _Ah_ , Harry, why the fuck— _nnnnngh!_ ”

“Do not argue with me. Do you understand, Eggsy?”

Eggsy gasps out a moan, hands clenching and unclenching, locked together by the unbreakable hold Harry has on his wrists. It’s like a fucking vice, and Eggsy is nothing short of in love with how it feels being at Harry’s mercy.

“Eggsy,” Harry breaths against his chest, and then he’s biting Eggsy’s neglected nipple, digging his thumb into his hip bone hard enough to bruise.

“ _Yes_ , Harry,” Eggsy keens, and Harry’s tongue soothes the sting away, making Eggsy’s stomach tremble and his cock leak.

“ _Good boy,”_ is his reward, along with Harry suckling at his nipple as the hand bruising his hip slips between them and curves around Eggsy’s hard on. Eggsy whimpers sharply, bucking up into the touch, desperate for it, and Harry sighs against his chest. “I’d be terribly cross with you if you were constantly sniffling about, dragging your feet in slippers, your hair all a mess. And how could I send you to work like that?” He kisses Eggsy’s throat and presses the heel of his palm down against his erection, dampness smearing against his palm. “That wouldn’t do; how could you save the world with a runny nose?”

“Your dirty talk is terrible tonight, Harry,” Eggsy grumbles.

“Is it bothering you?”

On the contrary, Harry could explain in his most perfunctory voice how to properly lace a fucking _shoe_ and Eggsy would find a way to get off on it. Especially if Harry was explaining it while touching him in such a sinful manner.

“Sadly, no,” Eggsy admits, laughing as Harry releases his wrists in favor of using both hands to hook his fingers into the waistband of Eggsy’s briefs.

With his hands suddenly free, Eggsy wants nothing more that to card them through Harry’s thick mess of hair, or to drag his nails down his broad, bare shoulders.

But as soon as his fingers flex, Harry meets his gaze with a light in his eye like hellfire. “You keep those hands over your head, understand? If I have to tell you twice, you may not enjoy what follows.”

A sharp, stinging thrill lights up Eggsy’s abdomen, and his mouth goes dry with the thought of it.

And while he may not enjoy what follows, Eggsy’s honestly dying to find out what exactly Harry would do to him if he moved.

On the other hand, the way Harry’s kissing his quivering abdomen has him fisting his hands in the duvet over his head, moaning into his bicep.

“Good boy, Eggsy,” Harry sighs, dipping his tongue into Eggsy’s navel, nosing the fine dusting of hair that follows the crease between his abs. “My perfect boy.”

And _that_.

Eggsy has never wanted to please anyone more than Harry Hart, has never wanted to hear those words more desperately than when they fall from Harry Hart’s lips, would do anything and everything to have Harry fucking Hart call him his _good boy_.

Eggsy’s eyes fall shut and his mouth falls open, and when Harry’s fingers drag down his briefs and his mouth ghosts over the head of his cock, he’s pretty damn sure he’s going to die.

“So damn beautiful,” Harry whispers, and then he kisses the tip of Eggsy’s cock.Harry’s touch liquefies the bones in his body, floods his mind with a mess of lightning struck thought. His mouth falls open on a soundless cry, and he wishes these aching, mindless seconds where the world is just him and Harry could last forever.

Harry focuses on teasing the head for a good long while, tugging Eggsy’s pants to his thighs, and if the noises he’s eliciting are anything to go by, he could probably get Eggsy to come just from this.

But that’d hardly be playing fair, and hardly the kind of treatment his boy is worthy of.

That in mind, Harry moans low in his throat as he takes Eggsy into his mouth as deep as he can, a sudden switch-up from the teasing lap of his tongue on Eggsy’s slit.

Eggsy cries out sharply, his breath hitching and his entire back arching like a bow, nails biting into the blankets. “ _Harry_ ,” he manages, somehow, to make the name out of the obscene sounds rising up from his chest, and Harry hums around his cock. “ _Fuck!”_

Harry pulls off his cock and licks his lips, stroking Eggsy lazily with one hand and pressing the other to his stomach. “Can you manage a whole sentence for me, Eggsy?” he teases, and he sounds so fucking innocent, like he doesn’t have Eggsy’s precome on his lips and his hand on his dick.

Eggsy bites his lip, because _Harry_ and _fuck_ are in their own rights full sentences, and he’s seeing stars behind his lids and his entire abdomen is on fire, and they haven’t even really _done_ anything yet.

“What . . . please— _ah!_ ” Eggsy’s valiant attempt is cut off when Harry gives the head of his cock a demanding suck, pumping his shaft languidly.

“Nearly there, lovely.”

“ _Shit_ , Harry, ain’t gentlemen not supposed to tease their lovers?” Eggsy snaps.

Harry sighs, licking a warm, wet stripe from the base of his cock to the tip. “Your memory, as always, is flawless. That’s exactly right, Eggsy.”

“The what the _fuck_ are you doing to me?” he demands indignantly, voice cracking as a spark of pleasure jumps up his spine.

Harry drags his briefs off, and Eggsy’s eyes snap open and blink dazedly, the room bleary and dark for a sweet, sinful moment before his knees are being spread and Harry’s body is pressing him into the mattress.

Their mouths meet and Eggsy moans brokenly, tasting himself on Harry’s tongue, the sharpness of salt and the nearly sweet flavour of Eggsy underneath it. And then there’s Harry’s taste, the heady mint of his mouth, and Eggsy’s cock jumps between their bare bellies.

Harry’s tongue plunders his mouth, and his hand slides between them to stroke Eggsy’s leaking cock. “You love it,” Harry growls, and it’s not a question, and Eggsy’s cock most certainly does not leak over his knuckles at the sound of it. “Look how wet you are for me, my darling boy. Christ, you’re magnificent.”

Eggsy wriggles, squirms, and whines under Harry, body heat and growled compliments making him delirious. “Oh god, Harry.”

“You’re perfect, you know that? What in this life of mine has warranted me such a gift?” Harry murmurs against his jaw, and Eggsy grips the duvet and tugs, still sprawled out with his arms above his head and desperate to make Harry proud.

Eggsy wraps his legs around Harry’s waist and ruts up into his hand, a rush of breath breaking from his lungs at how close it brings them, how fucking hot Harry’s body is, skin misted with sweat.

“Oh, darling,” Harry murmurs, and then the hand stroking Eggsy’s cock stops in favour of sliding past his balls, right to his hole, and Harry sinks in one cum-slick finger to the second knuckle with almost no effort.

It takes all of Eggsy’s ability not to come just from that, a sharp cry ripping itself from his chest, a dribble of precome slicking his stomach.

“I know, darling. How senseless of me, neglecting you. Forgive me,” Harry says tenderly. He thrusts his finger deeper, swiping over Eggsy’s prostate, crooking his knuckle, and then drawing out.

Eggsy’s eyes burn with tears, and he’s suddenly so desperate, so fucking hungry for Harry. He rocks his hips down, driving Harry’s finger deeper, and he can feel a second one itching to come into play, brushing at his rim.

“Harry, please,” he gasps. “Please, more, c’mon. _I need it_.”

Harry kisses him again, and the digit presses against his prostate for several long, pleasure-blinded seconds before it’s gone, and Eggsy’s left fumbling for reality and breath.

When he regains a little coherency, he finds Harry is no longer on top of him, but fussing with the bedside table, producing the lube from the top drawer.

“As gorgeous as you are, and as willing as I am to do anything you ask, this is one of those things I won’t idly overlook.”

“I can take it, you know,” Eggsy grumbles, watching as Harry fusses with the pillows at the head of the bed.

Then he turns to Eggsy and smiles broadly, the expression cutting through Eggsy’s pleasure-haze to flood his heart with warmth. “I’m sure you could.”

And Eggsy clicks his mouth shut and tries not to smile like a little shit, because Harry’s constant concern for him shouldn’t make him so pleased.

“Look at you, my good boy,” Harry laughs softly, breathless, and Eggsy tilts his head back and looks up at him. “Haven’t moved those hands an inch, have you?”

Eggsy blushes at that, because, no. No he has not. He relents his death-grip on the duvet some, watching as Harry climbs onto the bed and sits properly at the headboard.

“Guess I haven’t,” he offers with a tiny shrug, and Harry’s smile turns the warm coals in his gut. And when the fuck did Harry take off his briefs without Eggsy seeing, because nothing should ever rob him of the privilege it is to watch Harry strip.

It makes Eggsy’s jaw drop open, the sight of Harry lounging against the pillows, cock leaking and sticking straight up in invitation. Eggsy thinks he might say Harry’s name, but it’s probably nothing more than a rush of breath and a sudden twitch in his hands, which he’s desperate to run all over Harry’s body.

“Come here, darling.”

A switch flips, and Eggsy swallows, nodding as he rolls onto his side, then crawls up to Harry, straddling him. Harry smirks. “And I didn’t even have to tell you how I wanted you.”

Eggsy shivers. “Yeah? I’m just that good, eh.”

“As I have said; perfect,” Harry murmurs, curving his fingers under Eggsy’s jaw, brushing them over his hammering pulse point. He returns to stroking Eggsy’s cock, long, languid touches and twists of the wrist that have Eggsy leaking obscenely, and Eggsy has to drop his head forward and grab onto Harry’s shoulders to steady himself. “We’re going to try something new tonight, Eggsy,” he says after a long while, and Eggsy’s eyes flutter open, hands reflexively clinging to Harry tighter. “In way of celebration.”

“Huh?”

“Lie back a bit, yes? Brace your hands on my thighs and lift your hips,” Harry instructs, and despite his initial confusion, Eggsy follows, the position making his muscles tense and his shoulders hunch. “That’s it.”

“Guess this is the part where I ask what the— _fuck!_ ” Eggsy bites out as Harry slips two slick fingers into him, twisting and thrusting them without preamble. The burn is incredible, the stretch a moment of blinding pain that fizzles out into deep, dark lust. Eggsy blinks heavily, manages to find a focal point just beside his cock where he can nearly see Harry’s fingers fucking into him.

“I hoped you’d like this angle. It makes the next step much more promising,” Harry explains, as if reading an interesting snippet from the morning post, and Eggsy growls in his throat.

“Fuckin’ hope so. This is— _hhngh—_ killin’ my neck,” Eggsy tosses out dryly, and Harry smirks in the window between his knees.

“I’m sure you’re fine.”

And, yes, Eggsy is more than fine, because he has Harry’s fingers fucking his prostate, Harry’s cock occasionally kissing his arse-cheek, and he couldn’t care less about the pinch between his shoulders or the protest buzzing in the tendons of his thighs. After he’s been thoroughly worked open by three fingers, Eggsy’s panting and drooling as Harry suckles his balls and strokes his cock in tandem, the entirety of it enough to drive him insane.

“Are you ready, darling?” Harry inquires,and Eggsy shakes his head.

“God, Harry—”

“Not yet? I tried my best to be thorough,” is the reply before the base of Eggsy’s cock is squeezed while Harry applies wicked pressure to his prostate for far longer than one should be able to survive. At the same time, he ducks his head between Eggsy's thighs and laps at his rim around his knuckles. He licks and kisses at Eggsy's hole like he's starved for it, all the while not letting up on his prostate, pressing and pressing and fucking _pressing_.

Eggsy nearly screams, but the sound breaks off into a sharp, breathy whine, and he shudders through the aftershock when Harry relents.

“I… I just… I haven’t even sucked you yet. Christ, _Harry_ , all you’ve done is fuckin’ throw my mind out the window. I ain’t nearly returned the favor,” Eggsy groans, shivering as Harry pats his thigh, and slips his fingers out, allowing Eggsy to seat himself on his thighs, their cocks sliding together.

“Oh, Eggsy, _darling_ ,” Harry says warmly, and he loops his fingers into the chain around Eggsy’s neck and uses it to drag him forward, slowly, watching Eggsy’s limbs quivering as he moves. When Eggsy’s curled up in his lap, Harry’s cock between his arse cheeks, Harry kisses him, licking the dampness from his lips, tasting the heat of Eggsy’s mouth with painstaking strokes of his tongue and generous nips with his teeth.

Eggsy mumbles something akin to ‘what’, and Harry sighs against his parted lips.

“You don’t have to lay a hand on me to undo me. I promise you, just the pleasure of watching you fall apart is enough to break me,” Harry says softly, his voice low and rough, and Eggsy thinks he could fall apart and come just from the sincerity in his tone. He brushes the pad of his thumb over Eggsy’s medallion, still holding it like a leash, a collar, a claim.

“Christ, way to flatter a bruv,” Eggsy tries to laugh.

Harry nods against his forehead, brushing lazy fingers down his sides. “And as it were, I don’t think I’d be able to last very long if you put that silver tongue anywhere below my belt.”

Eggsy swallows, nods, and looks into Harry’s eye. After a brief pause, he lifts his shaky hands from Harry’s shoulders and unfastens his eyepatch, holding it out to the side with one hand and praying it lands on the bedside table when he drops it.

It sounds like mission success, and he leans forward, slowly, and kisses the scar on Harry’s eyebrow.

“You know I wouldn’t mind… If you wanted this _silver tongue_ on that gorgeous cock,” Eggsy whispers against Harry’s eye lashes, relishes the way Harry’s breath hitches at his words. “Anything you want, Harry… God, I’d give you anything. Just tell me what you want—say the word and it’s yours.”

Harry moans breathily against his collarbone, grips Eggsy’s hips and tugs him forward, and says, “I want to fuck you, Eggsy. I want you to ride my cock until you come screaming, and I will not be satisfied until you’ve been ruined with my come dripping down your thighs,” he shoves Eggsy back so he can look up at him through the fringe of his disheveled bangs, eyes whiskey and storm, and fuck, if that doesn’t _do_ things to Eggsy. “Is that something you’d be willing to give me?”

Eggsy moans brokenly, and he can barely tell he’s nodding frantically against Harry’s cheek before it becomes a hindrance when trying to kiss him. “ _Fuck yes_.”

“Good boy,” Harry groans, and then he’s slipping Eggsy into position, kneeling over his lap with his hands on Harry’s shoulders, arse just over Harry’s flushed, thick cock. He watches Harry pour lube into his palm, warming it before he’s slathering it all over his cock, slippery knuckles brushing against the backs of Eggsy’s quivering thighs.

“I’m ready. Fuck, _fuck_ , I’m ready, Harry,” Eggsy says desperately, his body aching, his chest constricted with fire.

“I know, darling. I know; let me,” comes the breathless reply, and Eggsy’s quivering all over, needy and already broken when Harry’s hand guides the head of his cock to his entrance and presses. “I have you,” Harry whispers, and Eggsy bites his lip and groans through his teeth when the thick head of his cock slides in. There’s the obvious pinch, the stretch, how perfect it is to have Harry inside of him. “When you’re ready.”

Eggsy knows that now, he’s meant to be the one to set the pace. Harry got him lined up, wet and ready, and now he’s supposed to impale himself on that gorgeous cock as fast or as slowly as need be.

And he knows he said he was ready, but as soon as he starts letting gravity do the work, his breath gets stopped up in his lungs and his abs tighten with the sudden strain that it is to catch himself.

“ _Harry_ ,” he whispers, squeezing his eyes shut, digging his nails into Harry’s shoulders.

“I have you,” Harry repeats, hands ghosting up Eggsy’s thighs, resting on his hips and gently pushing down, coaxing himself deeper, Eggsy mewling at the sensation.

And there’s no sense denying himself longer than necessary, Eggsy reasons, biting his lip and tilting his hips before he sinks down onto Harry’s cock, inch after glorious fucking inch driving into him, filling him up and making stars burst behind his eyes.

While the sensation is phenomenal, Harry’s sudden intake of breath and the way the word _fuck_ falls from his lips so perfectly has Eggsy whining in his throat.

Seated in Harry’s lap as he is, he twists his hips lightly, choking out a sound too rough to be a moan, a smile plastering itself to his face.

“You seem awfully… Awfully chipper for the occasion,” Harry moans, voice already gravelly and hot, his hands gripping Eggsy’s hips roughly as he gives another experimental twist. The head of Harry’s cock presses against the sensitive bundle of nerves inside of him, and with gravity’s help, Harry’s buried deeper than Eggsy remembers from the last time.

“You’re damn right I’m fuckin’ chipper. Christ, Harry, I missed you.”

“It’s hardly been long enough to warrant such a strong response.”

Eggsy shakes his head vehemently. “Even a second without you feels like fuckin’ hell. Bein’ here all day, sleeping _alone?_ That was _torture_ , Harry,” he sighs.

Harry runs his hands up Eggsy’s thighs, slotting his thumbs against his hips gingerly. “My sweet, sweet boy…” He whispers, and he knows he will never deserve Eggsy.

Eggsy slides his hands down the fine line of Harry’s collarbones, presses them to the firm plain of Harry’s chest. Taking a breath, he cants his hips up, pulling off of Harry’s cock just a few inches before sinking back down, and _fucking hell_ , he can’t stop the breathless, euphoric laugh that breaks free from his chest.

“Eggsy,” Harry groans, and there’s a miniscule crack in his control that results in him snapping his hips up into Eggsy sharply, pulling him down by his hips at the same time. He seems to register it a second too late, freezing stock still buried to the hilt in Eggsy’s arse.

“ _Fuckin’ hell_ ,” Eggsy bites, tossing his head back as lightning bursts in the base of his spine and rides up his back and through his belly. His cock twitches, an involuntary leak smearing across the hard ridges of Harry’s stomach, dampening the fine, dark hairs there. “Give me some fuckin’ warning before you do that shit. I coulda lost it right there, Harry.”

Harry huffs out a heavy breath, brushing his thumbs in arches over Eggsy’s narrow hips. “Is that so, darling?”

“Yeah, it’s fuckin’ so,” Eggsy bites back, breathing heavily, the shockwaves still tingling in his blood, his cock throbbing like a stubbed fucking toe. “You think I’d just say that shit for fun?”

Harry hums quietly, glancing off to the side of the bed. “So, you’re telling me you nearly came just from _this?_ ” He asks innocently, and then he fucks up into Eggsy, a solid, direct thrust to the prostate, and Eggsy chokes on his own breath.

“ _Fuck_ , Harry, fucking _fuck!”_ His entire body lights up with energy, his vision going blurry from the intensity of it, and his muscles clamp down for purchase on anything and everything, mostly the bones trembling beneath his skin.

“I’m sorry, darling. That wasn’t right. Did you mean like _this?_ ” Harry sighs, as if ashamed with himself, before grabbing Eggsy’s hips and pulling him down while simultaneously pounding up into him once, twice, five times.

“Harry, no, _please no_ , stop it,” Eggsy whines, dragging his nails down Harry’s chest as he continues to fuck him, his cock bouncing against his stomach, leaking without end.

Harry growls in his chest, releasing Eggsy’s hips, watching with dark satisfaction as his boy slides down completely on his cock, drooling and whining as his back arches, curling into Harry with a sob. White lights blink behind Eggsy’s eyes, and he can practically feel his every nerve scrambling like static away from the edge of a precipice like waves on the sand. A soundless cry gets caught in his throat.

When clarity returns to him, Eggsy’s being pet and praised, fingers brushing skin, tangling in his hair.

“You magnificent creature. Well done, Eggsy. I’m so proud of you,” Harry says, kissing Eggsy’s already sweat-damp temple, brushing his fingers along his shaking limbs, raising goose flesh on his sides.

“Thanks, Harry… The fuck for?” he huffs.

“You didn’t come. Though you have the ability to have an ungodly amount of orgasms in one night, you also have incredible restraint,” Harry takes Eggsy’s chin between thumb and forefinger, turning his head and slotting their mouths together in a wet kiss that is mostly just Harry lapping at Eggsy’s parted lips. “My god, you’re incredible,” he sighs, letting Eggsy duck forward while simultaneously wrapping his arms around his back.

“You know how to make a bruv weak in the knees, Harry,” Eggsy laughs, staring down at his cock with his head rested on Harry’s shoulder. It’s so fucking red, hot and leaking a nearly constant dribble of precome, the pearly fluid a puddle between his thighs, slicking Harry’s stomach. “ _Fuck_ me,” he blurts in disbelief.

Harry laughs darkly, then bites into the tender meat of Eggsy’s shoulder. “That’s the plan, my boy.”

Eggsy grins, mouth falling open on a moan as Harry’s teeth electrify his nerves, his hands cupping his shoulder blades to dig nails into flesh in shallow bites. “Am I gonna do all the work? Or you gonna do that fuckin’ thing again?” Eggsy huffs, sitting back so Harry’s cock sinks deeper, so he can look him in the eye. And yeah, he’d really fucking like it if Harry said he was gonna hold him by the hips and just fuck him ragged, helpless to do anything more than sit in his lap and take it. Nothing would please him more.

Harry glances up at the ceiling, contemplative, and gives a little hum before he circles his fingers round Eggsy’s cock and tugs, spreading the slick across his palm, a glistening, glorious mess. “We’ll see how I feel after I’ve had my fill of watching you work for it.”

While a prickle of heat bites the back of Eggsy’s neck, the desire to cross his arms over his chest and tell Harry to fuck off—well, to fuck _him_ , rather, but with much more spite—Eggsy’s more overwhelmed by the sudden need to rise to this challenge Harry has given him.

He knows he can do it. He fucking _knows_ he can have Harry seeing stars, cursing through his teeth, praising Eggsy the way he wants to be praised.

So he sets out to do it.

Biting the inside of his lip, Eggsy spreads his legs wider, letting the glorious ache of nearly doing the splits set a fiery trail up his spine. He moans brokenly at the sensation of Harry nudging deeper, his cock buried to the hilt.

Exhaling a long, steady breath, Eggsy braces his hands on Harry’s chest and arches his hips, drawing back off his cock slowly, before he’s sinking down again. He moans again, damn it, each and every time he sinks back onto the perfect fucking monster that is Harry’s cock, so fucking thick, so long and hot and fucking amazing.

“That’s it, Eggsy. Perfect. Just a little faster, my boy.”

Harry’s voice is quiet, shallow and breathy in a way Eggsy hasn’t heard before, and he opens his eyes and finds Harry watching him, staring at him with all the clarity passion allows. He’s watching the rise and fall of Eggsy’s chest, the shiver that makes his tight abdomen quiver, the smooth, steady roll of Eggsy’s hips. He’s watching him like there’s nothing else in the world, devouring Eggsy with his gaze.

“Faster, yeah?” Eggsy goads, biting his lip as he slides his hands from Harry’s chest to his stomach, smoothing them up his own thighs. He trails his fingertips over his stomach, up his chest, then laces his fingers together behind his neck. “Is that what you was askin’, Harry?”

“ _Tart_ ,” Harry growls, reaching out and gripping Eggsy’s sides with rough hands, pulling him in an arch that leaves Eggsy gasping.

“You made me this way,” Eggsy accuses, but starts up a steady rhythm of lifting himself nearly completely off of Harry’s cock and sliding back down on it, always fully seating himself in Harry’s lap.

“I did nothing of the sort. You were a deviant when I found you.”

Eggsy moans in his throat and tangles his fingers into his own hair, rolling his hips to stir Harry’s cock inside of him. “A _virgin_ deviant,” he sighs, and then bounces on Harry’s cock harder when the older man grips his hips with bruising fervor at his words.

It seems to startle Harry for a moment, and his mouth falls open on an aborted moan, his hips canting up into Eggsy’s, thumbs pressing into the V of his pelvis dangerously.

And oh, how Eggsy loves it. A fiery thrill bursts in his gut when he licks his lips and Harry’s gaze follows the motion, his breath short and shaky as he starts riding his cock in earnest.

He does his best to keep the show up, rolls his hips, lets his head fall back and runs his hands down his torso, but it becomes a bit of a blur the longer he’s left steadily bouncing himself on and off of Harry’s throbbing cock.

“Fast enough for you, Harry?” Eggsy groans, the momentum of his thrusts causing his own leaking, untouched cock to bounce against his stomach, the slap of slicked skin on skin resounding in the room on top of their labored breaths.

Harry’s head is tossed back against the pillows, his thumbs digging bruises into Eggsy’s thighs, and his gaze is still focused with predatory desire on Eggsy’s body. He watches his cock swing up on each downward thrust, watches his own thick length disappear into his boy’s heat each time he brings his perfect arse flush with Harry’s own pelvis.

But Harry’s favorite part might be Eggsy’s hands nervously brushing his nipples only to flee with a sharp gasp, Eggsy’s teeth worrying his lip into a red-stained pillow, brows furrowed, the dark gold fan of his lashes casting shadows on his flushed cheeks.

No, his favorite part is the way Eggsy’s back bows and his mouth falls open on a heady moan, scoring his own collarbone with his nails as he touches Harry’s abdomen with a sweaty palm, searching for an anchor. It’s Eggsy’s every breath, every exhale a moan and every inhale a sigh, the way he has completely lost himself in the actions, the motions, his hips gyrating, his body desperate and hungry.

Fuck it. Harry doesn’t have a favorite part.

If anything, his favorite part is _Eggsy_ , and how his boy is so perfect, so precious, mewling and whining and cursing to himself as he rides Harry’s cock like he needs it to live.

“Perfect,” Harry praises, brushing one hand down Eggsy’s abdomen, fisting his cock with the other. “Fucking perfect. Look at you—my gorgeous boy,” he sighs, stroking Eggsy’s leaking cock, pressing his thumb to the slit to watch the pearlescent fluid leak under his touch.

“ _Ffffuck_ … Harry—Harry, I—”Eggsy moans, squeezing his eyes shut, his hips stuttering their motion as a wave of heat like liquid sugar sloshes in his gut, rides up into his chest and makes him choke on his breath.

“You’re so beautiful. My beautiful boy, my _good boy_ ,” Harry groans, lifting his hips to meet Eggsy’s downward thrusts, shocking brittle cries from him the first few times. But it only takes a minute for those brittle cries to turn into throaty moans, Eggsy dropping his head forward, hands tickling over Harry’s belly, searching aimlessly.

Harry smiles, sliding his hands under Eggsy’s, brushing his fingers against his palms before Eggsy gets the idea and laces their fingers together. Like this, the gravity holds him in place, the tie of Harry’s hands and Harry’s hips leaving Eggsy on a throne to grind down against, to mewl and quiver as sweat slicks his bangs to his face and pleasure numbs the pinch in his shoulders.

“Harry… Fuckin’ hell, Harry. You feel so good. Your fuckin’ cock— _my god_. Ah— _ah! Auh, fuck, ah, hn!”_

“That’s it Eggsy. Just like that; you’re doing wonderfully,” Harry replies, a smile touching the corners of his mouth as he watches Eggsy’s expression flitter through a myriad of pleasured shades.

“ _Harry_ ,” he mewls brokenly, squeezing Harry’s hands in a white-knuckled grip, bucking his hips and tossing his head back.

“Fucking perfect. Just gorgeous, my darling, my good boy. So good for me,” Harry groans, lifting his hips up, tilting them the tiniest bit to drive deeper into Eggsy each time he drops his arse down on his cock.

The sound is beyond obscene; the creak of the mattress, the slick, sweet squelching of Eggsy’s arse being fucked raw, the hard, heavy breaths getting fucked out of Eggsy’s chest, the moans punctuating their breathy fall.

Harry closes his eyes, drops his head back against the pillow and sighs, licking his lips and fighting down the churning heat in his abdomen. He’s not ready for this to be over. Cracking his eyes open, he rakes his gaze over Eggsy, predatory, possessive. “That’s it, my love. Just so, sweet boy.”

Eggsy has no reply, just nods and exhales and inhales ragged breaths. He bites his lip and digs deep into his soul for the strength to open his eyes, tilting his head forward so he can meet Harry’s gaze.

It’s like that for minutes, hours—neither of them can tell. Hands clasped so tight, despite their clammy texture, eyes locked in an unblinking, fiery link. The focus is like a magnifying glass under sunlight, drilling a hole of fire through Eggsy’s chest, stealing his breath as Harry stares into him, through him…

It’s too much, it’s not enough—it’s everything. It’s unlike anything either of them has ever known before, and Eggsy barely realizes he’s begun crying before one of Harry’s hands releases his to cup his cheek, thumb swiping beneath his damp lashes.

“I have you,” Harry sighs, smiling as Eggsy rocks back down against him, laughing through a sniffling, rough breath.

“I know. I know, Harry—I love you. I love you so much,” Eggsy moans, reaching up to take Harry’s hand, pressing it tighter against his cheek before he pulls it away to press a kiss to Harry’s palm. “I ever tell you I’m yours, Harry?”

“Not nearly enough, my prince,” Harry sighs, palming his and Eggsy’s intertwined fingers down the boy’s heaving chest. “Once more couldn’t hurt.”

Eggsy laughs, picking up a faster rhythm drives himself on and off of Harry’s cock. “Yours, Harry,” he says, brows pinching as a stir of heat riots in his gut. “I’m yours.”

“Louder, my boy,” Harry says, barely above a whisper, eyes falling shut as he he grips Eggsy’s hips in his hands without releasing his fingers.

It destroys whatever semblance of balance Eggsy had before, and he’s left curving his spine and panting wetly above Harry, gasping for breath as the struggle to stay steady forces him to fuck himself on Harry’s cock harder, deeper.

“I’m yours, Harry,” Eggsy groans, the sound of his voice stoppered up by a choked off moan, his nerves becoming a tingling mess, his heart thundering in his throat, vibrating his ribs.

Harry bites his lip, uses his leverage on Eggsy’s hips to yank him down as he fucks up into him harder. “I said louder, darling.”

Eggsy chokes out a sharp whine, Harry’s cock slamming up into his prostate. “I’m yours!” He snaps, a fresh gush of tears and precome spilling from his eyes and his cock.

“That’s it, gorgeous. _My good boy_ ,” Harry positively growls, releasing one of Eggsy’s hips to press against the mattress, sitting himself up high enough to bite and suckle the tender flesh just above Eggsy’s nipple.

“ _Haah!_ ” Eggsy can’t even manage the name, just curves against Harry and slips his other hand free of his grasp to latch onto Harry’s shoulders.

Harry’s hand bruises his hip, curves against the small of his back and holds Eggsy steady as he uses his newfound leverage to fuck up into Eggsy with brutality, a demanding ferocity filling each motion. With Eggsy kneeling over him, knees braced into the mattress and hands on his shoulders, Harry’s free to take and take, his boy ready and waiting and nearly _screaming_ in his lap.

“ _I love you, Harry!_ Fuck, I’m yours!” Eggsy cries, burying his face into Harry’s neck, whimpering and praying, for there’s nothing more he can do that hold on for dear life as Harry does what he will with him.

“Yes you are, darling. You’re my good boy, aren’t you?”

Eggsy’s blood boils. “I… I am. _Fuck_ , I am.”

Harry growls softly, pressing bruises into Eggsy’s skin. “You’re my what? Say it properly for me, darling.”

More tears spill down Eggsy’s cheeks. “I’m your good boy!”

And _fuck_ , that nearly does it.

“That’s it, Eggsy. Good boy--aren’t you just,” Harry praises, a perfect tilt of his hips sending fireworks off in Eggsy’s nerves.

It’s shameful, he thinks, how hot and desperate and _safe_ the words make him feel.

He fucking loves it, though. _God_ , how he loves it, because he’s Harry’s, totally and completely. To do with what he will, to take what he will, and Harry doesn’t have to give back to Eggsy the way he does. Eggsy doesn’t deserve that. But Harry is just as gone on Eggsy, the limit of his devotion to his boy endless.

Eggsy turns his face and bites Harry’s shoulder, digging his nails into his shoulder blades for purchase, grinding his hips down when Harry bucks up, meeting him thrust for thrust.

“My precious, darling boy,” Harry manages to whisper, once his throat has recovered from swallowing his own sharp cry. He takes Eggsy’s hips in his hands, yanks him down for a series of brutal thrusts that snap broken, pitchy cries from Eggsy’s throat.

He continues on like that, turning Eggsy into a broken, howling mess, his cries punctuated by Harry’s thrusts, his tears soaking his shoulder.

“I’m yours, Eggsy,” Harry whispers, laving his tongue over the hammering of Eggsy’s pulse against the thin skin of his throat.

The sharp intake of Eggsy’s breath would startle Harry, if not for the situation, the quick snap of his hips, the way Eggsy’s clinging by tooth and nail to the precipice of sanity.

Harry kisses his throat, pulls Eggsy flush to his lap and drives his hips up.And with nowhere for Eggsy to go, he’s left to wail out an unbroken cry as the weight of Harry’s cock presses against his prostate and hammers white explosions of ecstasy through his blood relentlessly.

“Tell me I’m yours, Eggsy,” Harry pleads, and it’s ridiculous, because the man should never have to plead for anything.

Eggsy stifles a laugh, tipping his head back and smiling up at the ceiling through bleary eyes. “You’re mine… _Mine_ ,” and his mouth falls open on a soundless cry, that word sparking up such a fire in him that all the others become bare coals, and Eggsy is left without a single thing connecting him to this world…

Just Harry.

His Harry.

Eggsy bows, a steel cable pulled tight beyond measure, only to break. And then he’s coming. His hips buck, dragging Harry’s cock against every sensitized nerve within him, his cock dripping, drooling, then suddenly spurting ropes of thick, molten ecstasy across Harry’s stomach and his own.

He whimpers out a hoarse noise, the cry so shrill it barely has sound at all, and he just can’t seem to stop coming.

Harry growls low in his throat, seizes Eggsy’s hips and twists them about, stirring his cock inside of his boy as his hole flutters, clamping down on him tighter than a vice.

“Eggsy, I—”

“ _Yes, Harry,_ please!” Eggsy begs shamelessly, his voice barely a whisper, fucked to high heaven.

And Harry’s never been one to deny his boy a single fucking thing.

He holds Eggsy still and fucks up into his tight hole, growling through his clenched teeth, panting against Eggsy’s racing heartbeat before he’s holding Eggsy flush to him, buried to the hilt and filling his boy with jet after jet of cum.

“My good boy,” Harry groans, gripping Eggsy’s cock and squeezing it, dragging his fist to the tip to squeeze more cum from the leaking head. It rouses another fresh spurt of pearly liquid from the tip, drooling over Harry’s knuckles.

Eggsy bucks his hips and chokes on a pathetic sound, digging his nails into Harry’s shoulders tight enough to break skin.

And fuck, he comes again.

It’s lightning at the base of his spine, gunfire behind his eyes, and for a sweet, blissfully black second, Eggsy thinks he either sees Heaven or blacks out. Either way, it’s _fucking aces_.

Harry’s breath gets caught in his lungs, Eggsy’s hole fever hot, milking him for every drop as his second orgasm makes every muscle in his body seize up with twice the force. “Good boy, Eggsy. That’s it… Perfect, darling. Good—good boy. Such a good boy.”

There are no words for how Eggsy feels, and so none manage to fall from his agape mouth. He wheezes a desperate sound against Harry’s shoulder, drooling as Harry tugs on his spent cock.

“Harry…” He tries, and drops one hand from Harry’s shoulder down into his lap. He’s fucking boneless, can’t hardly think straight. He needs Harry to stop touching his cock, because two orgasms is only his halfway point, and he knows if Harry strokes him long enough, he’ll never come down. And Harry’s already spent; it would be greedy to ask to keep going. Not that he’d want to. He’s been fucked well beyond thoroughly, and his thighs are stinging and straining in protest.

He brushes his fingers against Harry’s wrist, trying to get his attention without words, without the capability to speak.

“Oh, my lovely boy,” Harry nods, releasing Eggsy’s cock in favor of smoothing his filthy, cum-dripping hand up his boy’s abdomen, pressing it to the slick crease between his pecs. “How foolish of me,” he huffs, and Eggsy just mutters a contented noise that brings a smile to Harry’s lips. He can feel Eggsy’s heartbeat, thunderous as ever, but growing slower and more even by the minute.

Eggsy sits back, hissing when Harry’s cock pulls against his rim, and he manages to blink his vision clear enough to look at the mess he’s made between the two of them. He’s still panting, mouth dropped open, salty tears drying on his cheeks, and the spasm of his stomach muscles is like a fucking belly-dancing class.

Harry smiles up at him, lifting his clean hand to gently curve his knuckles under Eggsy’s jaw, drawing his gaze away from the smear of white spunk on flushed skin to his face. “Welcome back,” Harry teases.

It’s a good long minute before Eggsy responds. “Fuckin’ _love_ you, Harry.”

“Well, I certainly hope so,” Harry sighs contentedly, unable to fight the smile that spreads across his lips as Eggsy mewls quietly and leans into the touch, pressing the curve of his face into Harry’s palm. “Oh, Eggsy. Words cannot justify you.”

Eggsy snickers, letting his head fall back, his body a perfect stretch of muscle as he tilts backwards. He slips off of Harry’s cock and plops backwards onto the mattress between Harry’s legs with the grace of a cadaver. “Look who’s talkin’.”

Harry rolls his shoulders, something in his neck cracking, before he manages to slip his legs out from under Eggsy, crawling over him and resting with his elbows on either side of Eggsy’s face so he can lean down and kiss him.

It’s languid and hot, the tiny moans falling from Eggsy’s lips singing only of perfect contentment as his fingers thread through Harry’s dark tresses, damp with sweat under his touch.

“I’m most incredibly enamored with you, Eggsy Unwin,” Harry whispers against his lips, and Eggsy grins and writhes up against the firm line of Harry’s body.

“Guess I can live with that,” Eggsy groans, stretching his arms up over his head, his hands dangling off over the edge of the mattress. “That was fucking amazing, that was.”

“Yes, you seemed to take quite the liking to it. You’re downright glowing,” Harry says, ducking his head to nuzzle his nose along the hard line of Eggsy’s jaw.

“Damn right, I’m glowin’. Wanna ride you like that every night, Harry. You think you can go again?” Eggsy inquires, his voice lilting and innocent as he runs his hands down from Harry’s shoulders to his bare arse. He digs his fingers into the tender, firm meat, and his mouth waters at the thought of maybe, one day, sinking his teeth into Harry Hart’s perfect arse.

Harry chuckles breathlessly, whole-heartedly, and nuzzles his forehead against Eggsy’s. “My love, don’t take this the wrong way… But you’re fucking mad.”

Eggsy turns his face away and practically guffaws, hugging Harry to him tightly as kisses get pressed into his neck and shoulder.

“I don’t see why it’s so funny.”

“It’s alright. I’ll find it funny enough for both of us,” Eggsy turns his face back in to kiss Harry’s cheek. “I’ll take that as a no then?”

“At least for tonight. Perhaps we can work up to it. You know, once a night for a week, and then aim for twice.”

“ _Jesus_. Once a night? You promise, Harry?”

“Insatiable,” Harry scolds.

“You the one who’s in love with it.”

“And I’ll be damned for it. Remarkable, Eggsy. You’re utterly remarkable, and I hope that one day I can satisfy you as you satisfy me.”

Eggsy rolls his eyes hard enough to strain _Harry’s_ optic nerves. “You _beyond_ satisfy.”

“It does not change the matter of my age or your needs… I’d like to give you more, Eggsy. I’d love nothing more than that,” Harry sighs, reaching up and plucking the medallion from Eggsy’s neck, fussing with it, and it suddenly makes Eggsy feel hot under the collar and tingly all over, the way Harry’s looking at him, the glint of shame in his eyes.

Eggsy shrugs, does his best to ease Harry’s worries by saying, light-heartedly, “I wouldn’t mind helpin’ you out with that,” and even if he did mind, he wouldn’t say anything, damn it. Harry’s stamina is, stand alone, unparalleled at the least. After all, what costs Eggsy four orgasms only spends Harry one, and that’s saying something complimentary for the both of them. Even if Harry never manages to give him more than one orgasm a night, one orgasm from Harry Hart is above and beyond any godly gift Eggsy will ever receive.

Harry hums quietly. “I’m sure it would be a hardship for you, lying there, night after night, taking my cock.”

Now it’s Eggsy’s turn to scold. “ _Harry_.”

“Right, sorry. My boy is still sensitive,” at that, Harry grinds his hips down, effectively rubbing his cock against Eggsy’s where it’s slotted beside his hip. “It would be fairly easy to get you, how did you say it? Going again?”

“Please, don’t tease me,” Eggsy whines, gripping Harry’s ass tighter. “C’mon, Harry. I’m all sticky an’ shit. We’s gonna get glued together with my cum, for Christ’s sake.”

“Nonsense; it would just get dry and flake off,” Harry replies, relishing the look of disgust Eggsy flashes him, rising onto his hands and knees over Eggsy’s body. “But I’d better clean you up. Lord knows it’s too late for you to shower. And I love how amazing you smell after you’ve been thoroughly ruined.”

“And nobody ruins me like you do,” comes Eggsy’s sigh. He tangles his fingers into Harry’s ruffled hair, uses it as leverage to pull Harry down for a kiss. It’s a bare press of lips, gentle and light, with Harry reaching up to cup Eggsy’s throat as his boy tugs on his hair.

Harry sighs into the kiss, then pulls away long enough to burn a hole through Eggsy’s soul. “I’ll be right back, then.”

“Yes, Harry,” Eggsy sighs, lying on the bed boneless as a feline in a patch of sunlight, and Harry climbs off the mattress and scuttles gracefully off to the bathroom.

He returns shortly with two rags, cleaning Eggsy off with the same skilled care he takes with most attributes of his life—only times ten. Eggsy mewls and sighs heavily as Harry towels him off, doing his damndest not to allow a new erection to spring up at Harry’s touch. His efforts are valiant, and before he knows it, Harry’s tossing the rags in the hamper and strolling over to the dresser. As if he means to put on clothing.

Oh, no.

“Harry, just come lay with me,” Eggsy moans, rolling onto his stomach, still turned the wrong way across the bed.

Harry turns to him with a frown, already holding a pair of flannel pajamas in hand. “Sleeping naked is not something you should make a habit of, Eggsy. You could catch cold.”

Eggsy groans, dropping his head down on his arm. “But I like you naked.”

“And I _you_ , darling. But I needn’t have you waking up sniffling with blue toes.”

The scowling pout on Eggsy’s face deepens. “The heater’s on. How cold you think I’m gonna be?”

Harry sighs heavily, setting the pants back in the drawer and sliding it shut. “I tell you not to make bad habits, and I tell you in vain, for you _are_ a bad habit, Eggsy.”

A wink is his response, and Eggsy turns and crawls across the bed—still butt arse naked as he pleases—and burrows under the covers, pulling them back for Harry to join him.

But not before Harry removes the top duvet and tosses it into the hamper as well.

When Harry climbs into bed with him, Eggsy lets himself be positioned about as Harry sees fit which, tonight, would be as the little spoon folded up in Harry’s arms, body curved against Harry’s like a mold being set.

Harry presses kisses to Eggsy’s neck, his shoulders, drinking in the softness of him, the warmth of his scent. "My Excalibur," Harry sighs heavily, and it is no less surprising and pleasing than the first time.

It makes him shiver, and Eggsy sighs and settles deeper into Harry’s arms. “My king,” he whispers.

A shock of thunder outside has them both sitting up, staring out the window to see the sky lit with a blast of vivid red. A brilliant green and a dazzling blue follow, accompanied by two more thunderclaps.

Fireworks ignite the cloudy gray sky beyond them, and Eggsy laughs breathlessly, watching sparks tickle the sky, glitter like stardust falling from brilliant white explosions. He presses his hand against Harry’s chest, twisting so he can lay his head on Harry’s shoulder when they lay back down.

“Happy New Year, Harry…” he whispers, curling in and pressing kisses to Harry’s chest.

Harry sighs, brushing his fingers down Eggsy’s spine. “I’m sorry, darling.”

“The fuck for?” Eggsy laughs loudly, fireworks painting the floor pink and green.

“I promised we would do something special; something fun and exciting for the holiday,” comes Harry’s soft reply before he kisses the top of Eggsy’s head. "It seems the negotiation process took longer than expected."

Eggsy laughs again, trailing his fingertips from Harry’s collarbone down to his navel, clawing at the hairs there. “Harry… _Nothin’_ coulda been better than this. Look at all you’ve done for me tonight—you come home with the best news I’ve heard since I found out you wasn’t dead, then you fuck me absolutely stupid. I _loved_ tonight, Harry,” he says warmly, burying his face in Harry’s neck. “I’m happy. And after I saw you come through the front door tonight, I completely and totally forgot it was New Year’s Eve, anyhow.”

Harry laughs, shaking his head. He holds Eggsy closer, tighter, and the fireworks continue painting the outside sky. “For such a deserving prince, it’s not terribly hard to please you.”

Harry's kiss against his skin and the tightening of his embrace is all Eggsy needs to fall headfirst into slumber.

And Harry goes shortly after.

If Eggsy wakes up in the middle of the night sneezing, complaining about being cold, Harry says nothing on the matter. Simply dresses himself and his boy in fleece pyjamas and sets him back to slumber in a warm tangle of blankets and sleepy kisses.  
  


 

**Author's Note:**

> It's a miracle! Ordained by heaven! This boy is our king!  
>   
> Actually, he's the king's sweet lil egg. But we'll pretend and let Mo have a moment. On that note, it's ALSO a miracle of heaven that this fic EVER got finished and posted, and now you can finally enjoy it as much as I do.
> 
> Aaaaaaaaaand, we're back to the second best thing I do--SMUT. You're welcome.  
>   
> And if my word count is correct, nearly HALF of this fic is smut..... I have a condition.
> 
> I continue to thank all of you from the bottom of my crumpled up lil paper ball of a heart. You mean the world to me. And if I talk about you too long, I might cry. This fandom has given me so much love and support and some beautiful friends *finger guns them cause they know who they are* and it's more than I could ever ask for.
> 
> My spy babies have more adventures coming their way, or my name isn't Mo McDannie!! (technically, it's not, but this is more catchy!!)


End file.
